


By Any Other Name

by Trista_zevkia



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics), World's Finest (Comics)
Genre: Awkward First Times, First Time, M/M, Puns & Word Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 01:38:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From Marvin Gaye to the urban dictionary, there are many sexual phrases to learn. Some people have better things to do than learn them, like saving the planet. So at what point does it become seduction?</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted elsewhere.

Batman made his way to the Monitor room for his weekly afternoon duty shift. A large man, powerfully built, encased body armor and wearing sturdy boots would be expected to make noise. What would be the reason for a logical and efficient man to creep around a brightly lit, secure location, surrounded by comrades-in-arms? Still, the passage of Batman was not marked by noise; even the handheld computer he worked on was silent. A person would have to have super-hearing to make out the soft swish of the long black cape as it billowed around him.

“You’re driving me mad!” 

The angry, frustrated words emerged from the cafeteria. Batman knew the voice, even though he had rarely heard it raised in anger, and considered ignoring it. He almost sighed as he entered the cafeteria, convinced it was for the good of the world to make sure Superman was calm and happy. 

“Problem?” The deep growl of Batman’s voice didn’t show any trace of confusion or surprise. Both might have been acceptable emotions, as Clark Kent, mild mannered reporter, was alone in the JL cafeteria. Kent looked up at Batman with a grin of relief, as if someone had just taken the world off his shoulders. 

“Bruce! Thank God. My computer is killing me, and only you can save me.” 

“I’m far more likely to help you if you knock off the theatrics.” Bruce’s voice, as it came out of Batman’s body, was melodious and far more human than Batman’s growl. Batman crossed the room so he could lean over Clark’s shoulder and see the screen. 

“Sorry, just been one of those days. Computers are down all over Metropolis, so I came up here to do some work for the next edition.” Batman blinked a couple of times as he processed all the pictures of homosexual couples on Clark’s screen. “I did this story about this guy from Guns N’ Roses getting voted the second best electric guitarist in the world. I need a public use photo to go with the article, but the Planet’s computers went down before I could get one. So why do I keep getting pictures of gay couples when I search for Slash?” 

Intense blue eyes stared at Clark, making Batman even quieter than normal for a long minute. Batman turned back to the computer and used the touchpad to change a setting. A new page downloaded, full of images of a guitar player with long, curly hair and a top-hat. Clark sagged back in his chair like all was suddenly right with the universe. 

“See Bruce? You are a lifesaver!” 

Batman stalked silently away but Bruce muttered to the air in front of him. 

“Enough hysterics, somebody turned off your safe search mode.” Soon Batman was working again, the incident hardly worth remembering. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

The bolo, with kryptonite instead of metal balls on the end, was a clever idea. Superman could appreciate the thoughtfulness that went into this plan even as he fought against the pain it brought him. Whatever this group of villains had decided to call themselves when they got together, they had come prepared. 

Their sharpshooter, who Superman didn’t recognize, had wrapped Superman in the bolo and now aimed at Wonder Woman. She could only deflect so many bullets, and others with machine guns had her attention. Grundy was bashing his way through the Green Lantern’s ring powered cage, so the Green Arrow had four thugs do deal with on his own. 

Requests for assistance had gone out over the JL comms before the signal was jammed, at least Superman hoped so. They hadn’t received a reply and Superman lost his faith in getting one, as the kryptonite pushed him closer toward unconsciousness. Superman fought against the pull of death with all he had, so when he found he could move his body, he jerked upright. It took some time to orient, even with Batman squatting beside him. The lower half of Batman’s face was covered by a gas mask, so Clark let his eyes adjust to see Bruce’s face under all that before speaking. 

“You took your time getting here.” Bruce knew Clark too well to take offense at the remark and let his lips twitch, a bat-grin. 

“The Riddler had captured me and I was planning on letting him take me to his lair before I escaped.” Batman stood and moved over to the rest of the JL, who wore glowing green bubbles over their heads while they gathered up the criminals. Gas masks provided by the Green Lantern, Superman understood instantly. “I heard the distress call and had to change that plan, escape and save the lot of you.” 

“We’d do the same for you, Batman.” Seeing Batman’s shrug, Clark continued trying to convince Bruce they would all help him as well. “Even if it ruined my plans or an investigation, I’d drop everything to come help if you needed it. Seriously, I’d totally get sprung for you.” 

GL dropped the cage containing an unconscious Grundy and Batman started choking. After a few pats on the back, Bruce got himself under control. As he walked to the bat-plane, his voice came over the comm. “Since you are a writer, I think you need to work on your grammar and understanding of slang.” 

Superman turned his obvious confusion to the rest of the team. They were all suddenly too busy with transporting the prisoners to look him in the eye or answer any questions. A distant cry for help caught his attention, and Superman never got around to asking about it again. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

The Pakistanis watched with joy and awe as the JL finished building the school. The old school had doubled as an emergency shelter for the small community, until the unprecedented floods ripped out much of the foundation. The new building was larger, modern and yet designed to make the most of the climate. The designer had also built solar panels into the roof and found a piece of stable, high ground. 

The Pakistanis who watched the school built in two days hadn’t met the designer and didn’t know he was working on computers in the plane the JL came in. They would have invited him to their celebration, but his dark, scary costume would have been out of place. After the celebration the JL members went back to the plane, or Javelin as they called it. Superman could fly without a plane, but he was the first one to enter the Javelin. The designer of the school was asleep on a pull down bunk, but came awake with the entrance of Superman. Seeing his eyes were open, Superman grinned as he went up to Batman. 

“Since you made it all work, I brought you a souvenir.” Superman extended his hand and let a flash of metal fall into Batman’s glove. 

“A screw?” 

“You calculated out the exact number of everything, including screws we would need. This one is the very last screw we brought with us, well within your margin of error. I guess you could say it was a screwvenir you got from me!” 

Superman laughed at his own joke as the rest of the JL found their seats. Turning away for his seat, Superman missed just how long Batman stared after him in a dazed silence. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

In January of each year, the entire JL was present for a meeting. J’onn was on monitor duty, as he could do that job while listening in on the meeting telepathically. Everybody else had no distraction from the tedium of routine paperwork, reports on the previous year’s activities, and reviews of the rules. As Chairman, Superman did his best to keep the meeting moving and interesting, but it was a losing battle. 

“Next item is public appearance and perceptions. I’m happy for those of you who are dating or married but you’ve got to be professionals in public. I really feel the rumors on the internet about our sexual practices could damage our image.” Superman shrugged his apology at the JL and looked like he was ready to move on. “So Rule 34…”

Whatever he was about to say was drowned out by a tidal wave of noise, laughter, whistles, comments and catcalls. Looking around with surprise Superman saw Batman was the only one not making noise. Shifting his eyes to see through the cowl, Superman saw Batman’s face was frozen in a deer-in-headlights expression. It was a while before the meeting could resume, and nobody felt the need to explain the joke to Clark. Bruce’s face would occasionally return to that expression, as if he was thinking about that comment instead of what was actually going on. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

“So Lark, my man, how did you like our corporate comedian?” Clueless Brucie, getting names wrong and slurring his words like the drunkard he was. The reporter he was talking to, a man named Clark, only gave a small shrug before replying. 

“I could have done without that drummer.” Most of the crowd around Brucie waited for him to tell them what to think of Clark’s statement. “Banging away like we didn’t know when the punch line had been delivered. It got irritating, all that rimming.” 

“Rim shot! All those rim shots, Clark.” Brucie didn’t seem drunk any longer, as he tried to make this reporter (who he suddenly remembered the name of) refer to this correctly. 

“What’s wrong with rimming?” 

Holding up his hands at Clark’s words, Brucie backed away. The crowd was too busy laughing at Clark to follow Brucie just yet. Brucie quickly found another group of people to talk to, but was careful to not look at Clark for a while. With a frown, Clark left the charity event a short while later. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Batman transported into the cave and stomped his way over to the house-phone. Alfred could hear the irritation in his master’s voice, but it was expected after JL meetings. Gathering the food up, Alfred carried a tray down to the cave, desperately hoping Master Bruce would actually eat. The elevator doors open so Alfred could hear the words that had been muffled by the doors a moment ago. Alfred had recognized the voice through the door and could predict what Master Kent would be discussing. 

The same quarrel cropped up after every JL meeting to review past missions. Batman would accuse Superman of not thinking before acting, and Superman would accuse Batman of not having a heart. Superman didn’t want anybody to get hurt, so he threw his nigh invulnerable self into the most dangerous situations. Batman also didn’t want anybody hurt, so he wanted them all to be more cautious, especially those that were _almost_ invulnerable. With Batman, almost wasn’t good enough. Personally, Alfred thought they needed to talk about their need to protect each other, but that was even less likely than the two of them shagging. 

“All you do is ride me, as hard and fast as you can. What is your problem? Do you enjoy riding me?” Master Kent stopped his words to turn around and figure out why the tray was rattling. 

Alfred was laughing with silent dignity, but his whole body was shaking. Master Kent turned his confusion to Master Bruce, who was gapping at the sight of a laughing Alfred. The butler set the tray down, and backed into the elevator. 

“What’s got Alfred worked up?” 

Bruce leaned back in his chair and sighed with resignation before answering. “In England, and British influenced places, riding is a euphemism for sex. I think Alfred walked in on the worst possible part of our conversation.” 

“I should go explain it to him.” 

“No, he knows.” Shaking his head a little, Bruce turned back to his computer. “Besides, the man needs a good laugh. He worries too much.” 

“I can’t imagine what he has to worry about.” Sarcasm sounded foreign in Clark’s normally cheerful voice, and it bothered Bruce to hear it. 

“Go home. We’ll pick up where we left off later.” Clark lifted off as he stuck out his tongue, and almost bit it off at Bruce’s parting words. “You know, at me riding you.” 

sB _Sb_ Bs

The quite night was grating on Superman’s nerves for some reason. He felt an urge to do something, anything and the whole world decided to twiddle its collective thumbs. After a third listen around the world showed nothing that needed his attention, Superman sought out the one guy who always had something to do. Batman was crouched on a roof, as usual, and studying something through binoculars. Superman landed noiselessly beside him and made his large frame as small as possible. Batman gave no acknowledgment of his presence but didn’t startle when Superman spoke. 

“What’s got your attention?” 

“Daggett.” 

“Roland Daggett? I thought you put him out of business.” 

“I did. He went from respected, legitimate, business man to known mobster to convict.” There was a touch of annoyance in Batman’s voice, and Superman knew it was because Daggett was neither in prison or an orange jumpsuit at this moment. All that hard work on Batman’s part and the legal system had put Daggett back on the street. “He’s trying to make some quick cash, so he started a cock-fighting ring.” 

Superman thought making animals fight was barbaric, but also beneath Batman’s notice. “So what kind of fine will he get when you bust him on that?” 

“None. I rigged the game. I push a button and all the roosters fall asleep. The betters will call foul and Daggett won’t be able get another fight going. I’m stopping his bankroll.” 

“Oh. So since he got out of prison, Daggett’s been a cock mobster?” 

Batman snorted, and Superman looked to him with surprise. Covering his mouth with his hand, Batman started to make a strange rumbling sound. It was very brief, but for Batman it was an hour long belly laugh. “Yes, Superman. He is.” 

A few more giggles made it past Batman’s control after that, but he was steady as he watched his plan unfold. Superman knew his summery of the situation hadn’t been that funny, so he must have missed something here. He made up his mind; he would find a way to figure out what these things meant. Doubtless, some obscure place on the vast internet held the information he needed. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

“Ninja zombies? Are you serious?” Superman was almost shouting into the JL comms. He hadn’t been happy to find these zombies moved fast, but he was even less thrilled to get a spin kick to the face. A second later and Batman had been on the comm. explaining that an ancient Japanese artifact had been triggered, targeting the deceased who had been trained in the martial arts. 

“Would I lie about that?” 

Behind Batman’s calm voice was the sound of magic, as Jason Blood sought to reverse the enchantment. A door broke, and Batman moved to defend Blood against incoming undead ninjas. Superman sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. At least if they were already dead, Superman didn’t have to hold back on his powers and strength. 

“Let’s get it on.” Superman spoke into the comm. even as he flew toward a cluster of ninja zombies. 

He was aware of the choking sounds on the comm., and was listening outward to see who needed help when it stopped. Batman’s voice came over the comm., interrupted by the occasional connecting punch or kick. 

“New JL rule. Any statements to encourage battle readiness will consist of three words or less, not including the names of the opposing force.” Superman turned confused eyes in Batman’s direction, sweeping beams of heat across a group of zombies. “For example, ‘bring it, ninja zombies’ is acceptable.” 

Clark turned to fry another group as he asked. “Batman, do you really think now is the time to talk about that?” 

“It’s never the time with you, that’s why I have to say something.” 

Clark shook his head, remembered his task and focused his heat vision once again. “Batman, that reply didn’t make any sense. We’ll talk about it after this mess is cleaned up.” 

When a flash of magical light passed through the area, and the ninja zombies fell to dust, it was over without hours of cleanup. A few civilians had to be calmed into leaving their hiding places and then Clark went to have that conversation. Batman had long since gone, and left instructions to not be disturbed. Clark rolled his eyes at that and went on to the next crisis. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

“Cent my boy! So glad to see you.” Brucie enjoyed torturing the press it seemed, particularly Clark. That unfortunate member of the fourth estate looked shocked to be singled out like that. “The PR department had something they wanted me to tell the press, but I’ve forgotten what it was.” 

People sniggered, but nobody was surprised at the classic Brucie move. Kent pushed ahead. “So I should make an appointment with your secretary?” 

“No, stuffs at the house. I’ll tell Alfred to get it for you.” 

“Oh.” Kent looked strained for a moment like he was thinking about top-secret military codes. As if he thought Brucie might be sending him a coded message or something. “So I should aim for your backdoor?” 

More laughter and a thread of heat on Brucie’s face before he answered. “Alfred will meet you in the driveway.” 

The crowd moved off, leaving a frowning reporter behind them. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Batman materialized on the platform at the Watchtower, just as Alfred’s voice came over the headset in his cowl. 

“Sir, the Bat-signal has been activated.” 

“Thanks, Alfred. I’ll be quick.” Flipping over to the JL comm., Batman called out. “Superman, where are you?” 

“I’m in the gym.” 

Selecting the quickest route, Batman headed that way as he talked. “I have that information you requested. I had intended to go over it in detail with you, explain my notes, but something has come up in Gotham. You’ll have to read through it and get back to me with any questions.” 

“That’s ok. I wasn’t doing anything special.” Batman reached out to open the gym door as Superman talked. “Diana and I were just knocking boots.” 

The door was opening, and Batman was frozen, expecting Clark and Diana in flagrante delecto. As he processed the scene before him, Clark and Diana looked up at him with curiosity and fading smiles. Both had a boot over one arm, with the red polish on the floor in front of them. They were innocently sharing boot polish, doubtless knocking the boots together as they were sitting so close. Batman had walked in on a private joke, not a private moment. Pulling the jumpdrive out of his belt, Batman tossed it at Superman. The door was closing behind him before Superman could catch the informative projectile. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Mind controlled normal people were always difficult to defeat. Not because of new found physical prowess or massive numbers, but because the JL didn’t want to hurt them. This horde was the prison population of Blackgate, which made it even more complex. While convicted felons were by definition ‘guilty’ they were innocent of ‘this’ crime. They also tended to be in better shape than ‘normal’ people. 

Superman had worked his way through the prison, copying Batman’s choke hold. For simply cutting off the air with a forearm, it was harder than it looked. Not enough pressure and it didn’t work. Too much pressure, which was Superman’s concern, could damage the throat or kill the thug. Superman had seen Batman use it before and now used his x-ray to watch the master. Finally, with most of the prison unconscious, they were fighting in the same room. 

The rec room, in fact, where Batman was finishing off a large, ugly skinhead. Superman was showing off a little, with a large, ugly skinhead in each of his arms. Proud of his new skill, learned in one night and practiced almost two thousand times, Superman turned to Batman in triumph. He needed to celebrate but couldn’t bump knuckles while choking thugs. 

“Hey Batman, let’s bump uglies!” 

The rec room was silent enough that Superman could hear he was the only one breathing normally. A deep, air sucking breath as he dropped his ugly thug and Batman left without a word. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

“Well, that was a night from hell.” 

Batman would have agreed with Superman’s words, but he didn’t have the energy to spare. Must be nice, he mused to himself, to be above human things like wearing yourself out. Aliens had tried to take over Metropolis by oozing up through the sewers and into people’s toilets. Granted, it gave them access to every house and apartment in the city, but they seemed to think a straight pipe went from each toilet to the sewer. 

The stupid things had been stopped by the intricacies of modern plumbing, but the JL still had to convince them to surrender. They had put up a good fight until Batman sent a container of tear gas at a tunnel full of aliens. The upright tubes of goo had agreed to leave only after Batman had given them the recipe for tear gas, because it hadn’t made them cry. 

They had started squirming and jiggling, but by the time Batman understood their cries were not from pain, it was too late. Now there was an entire planet who would think of Batman as the one who gave them lust gas, and the entire JL was covered in their appreciation. It was better to not think about it, Batman decided but couldn’t help himself from speaking. 

“I’ve never wanted a shower more.” 

Strong arms made weak by exhaustion were having a hard time wringing purple goop and sewage from a black cape. Superman looked out of the sewer entrance they had come in so many hours ago, and spoke with his focus on somewhere else. 

“True, but I need a golden shower more.” 

A new source of energy had Batman spinning to look at Superman in surprise. 

“What?” 

“I need to get some sunlight, to recharge myself.” Seeing Batman’s continuing uncomprehending stare, Superman explained some more. “Showers are refreshing and sunlight looks golden, so I think of it as taking a golden shower.” 

“Clark, always, always look up a word or phrase before you start using it.” The command came out through clenched teeth, but was followed by a word of genuine pleading. “Please?” 

“Sure Batman, if you think it’s necessary.” 

“Trust me on this, Superman.” By running from his thoughts, Batman found the energy to make it home. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Batman entered the JL cafeteria and the noise level dropped. People still talked of their plans for Valentine ’s Day, just in softer voices. Nobody wanted the solitary night predator to drop kick them out of the room for dating or any of the thousand other things the great Batman didn’t approve of. For his part, Batman was considering the cost/benefit analysis of a new security system for the Watchtower. Two pieces of fruit and a sandwich were put on a plate and Batman grabbed a cup of tea on his way out. Superman followed him into the hall, where Batman had decided upon simply upgrading the old system, probably while everyone was away for Valentine’s Day. 

“Me, you, Lois, DP party?” Superman’s voice didn’t startle him, but the words did. The apple rolled off his plate as Bruce considered him and Clark, sharing Lois. Clark floating above as they established a rhythm for three. Maybe an Eiffel tower so he could touch Clark, kiss Clark, imagine it was Clark wrapped around his cock. It was tempting, so how had Lois talked Clark into it, especially after they had been broken up so long? Did Clark even understand what double penetration meant? 

“Clarify, Clark.” 

“Huh? Don’t you want to hang out with us at the DP party?” Picking up and brushing off the apple as he spoke, Clark didn’t look at Bruce. Clark’s voice showed his confusion and made Bruce realize him and Clark were talking about two totally different things, yet again. “You own the DP, so you should come.” 

“If you must shorten the name, just call it _The Planet_ like everybody else!” Batman’s body showed an unreasonable amount of anger for a simple miscommunication as he stormed away. Completely dazed, Clark could only call to his retreating friend. 

“Why?” 

“I’m not Google, quit asking me about these things!” 

With a heavy sigh, Superman turned back into the cafeteria. Batman finished his activities at the Watchtower as quickly as he could and sought a distraction in the streets of Gotham. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

“Really Bruce, it’s a great idea.” Clark was trailing behind Bruce in the Batcave, trying to convince him of this fact. “You don’t like it because you didn’t think it up!” 

“Clark, if I use one of my identities to ferret out this information for you, that identity will be useless when you print your article.” 

“How about if I show up and let you get away but catch all the others?” 

“No good, even the criminals know Gotham is Batman’s jurisdiction.” 

“Fine, I’ll dress up as Batman.” Bruce still had his back to Clark’s words, so Clark didn’t get to see the expression on Bruce’s face. He did get to see Bruce shiver at the idea. “Hey, I’m invulnerable and I can fly. I can pretend to be Batman for one fight, especially if I’m dressed for the trade! This is a quid pro quo-job, if I can get at your brains.” 

Bruce shivered violently this time, and Clark threw up his hands in frustration. Bruce called to him without seeing the gesture, so Clark turned it into a triumphant one. “Ok, we’ll do it. Give me four hours and then find me.” 

With his ramrod stiff back to Clark, Bruce’s hands were white in the knuckles where he gripped the metal table in front of him. Feeling like he was missing something, yet again, Clark put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “I’ll go then, if you don’t think we need a dress rehearsal.” 

“Go! I need a moment alone, ok?” 

“Right.” Clark backed off wondering why Bruce was suddenly so tense, like every muscle in his body was stiff. At the entrance to the cave, Clark looked back at Bruce, who hadn’t moved from the waist high lab table. “See you in four hours.” 

Clark flew away, planning on keeping an ear on Bruce as he did so. He heard a zipper being undone and a slight moan before somebody in Iceland started calling for help. That took precedence and when Clark checked back in a half hour later, Bruce was putting the finishing touches on his disguise. 

dressed for the trade = dressed like a prostitute, but not making any money quid pro quo-job = blow job in exchange for blow job brains = blow job dress rehearsal = dry hump 

sB _Sb_ Bs

The subjects of this stakeout were extremely cautions, and the Batman would have to stay well back to not be seen. If the deal went bad, Batman would need to be able to close that distance quickly. A stakeout with the Flash was impossible, the man absolutely could not sit still that long. Giving in to a small groan, Batman called Superman with his request. 

Batman pulled a pair of binoculars out of his belt and settled in to watch. Superman landed softly beside him and sat so their heads were level. It was almost time for the meeting, so Batman was too focused on that to talk. A few minutes of silence showed Superman could appreciate this, but a soft sigh made Batman think Superman was about to start talking. 

“Do you want my black cherry?” 

The binoculars fell from Batman’s hands as he turned to Superman, the meeting of criminals forgotten. Superman looked confused at Batman’s reaction, even as he held out a plastic bag full of black cherries. Batman had to clear his throat before he could reply. 

“You really should have made that plural, as in cherries.” 

“I wasn’t sure I wanted to share because they are so good, but then I thought you might not have had one before. I was just trying to be nice.” Superman sounded a little miffed, but Batman picked up his binoculars. He was carefully watching the meeting and didn’t look at Superman when he spoke next. “This kind of cherry is really firm and I love popping them.” 

The sudden flush on Batman’s face was a physiological reaction to the sudden chill of the night. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

It was supposed to be an informal meeting of the founding members of the JL, outside of the JL and costumes. Superman’s idea, it was a chance for old acquaintances to see how far they had come since they first got together. Nobody in the small café in Bulgaria spoke English, so multilingual Clark had ordered for them. Now they could talk freely, without fear of being overheard and seen for what they were. 

A serious look at the JL and its new recruits had quickly turned into a chance to talk about the good old days. Some people could happily sit around and talk about such things, Batman was not one of them. The way Clark figured it, Bruce had waited a whole five minutes after the change in conversation to pull out his toy. It was out of sight, under the table, but that didn’t stop Clark and his x-ray vision. Bruce had paid attention to the conversation while he checked email and stock prices, but now he was totally engrossed in designing something on the device. 

“Bruce, what do you think?” Clark pulled Bruce back into the conversation, wanting to spend a little down time with his friend. “Who would use an angry spider?” 

“If you don’t mind anal stimulation, they’re not that bad.” Bruce’s distracted words had Diana spitting beer out of her nose, while Oliver was holding onto the disguised J’onn to keep from falling to the floor as he laughed. Clark watched with obvious amazement as Bruce’s face reddened. Clark didn’t understand what was so funny, but he was relishing seeing Bruce embarrassed for once. “You were talking about Poison Ivy trying to train spiders to defend plants, weren’t you?” 

Clark nodded back and Oliver landed on the floor with a solid thunk. Diana was holding her head against the pain of beer shooting through her sinuses, but still laughing. Clark wondered at the look Bruce shot him, the one that blamed Clark for Bruce’s embarrassment. Shrugging back, Clark had no idea why Bruce would connect him with ‘anal stimulation.’ 

sB _Sb_ Bs

When four members of the Green Lantern Corps showed up in the Watchtower, it was rarely a good thing. These four brought news of an imminent attack on Earth but they also brought information on how those aliens attacked. Batman studied the info, discussed it with the Green Lanterns and started issuing orders. 

The youngest member of the Green Lanterns, H’dwigg, was amazed at his resourcefulness and intelligence. A pale white creature that looked made of ice; she took to developing spots of swirling blackness around him. Superman wanted to believe it was appreciation, but he knew it was desire. What he couldn’t accurately name, was the feeling that knowledge brought up in him. 

He didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as they had an invasion to prepare for, but it was strange. The aliens arrived when the GL’s had predicted and set their mothership down on the dark side of the moon. The aliens opened communication, demanding the unconditional surrender of Earth. Batman answered the call, so the diplomacy was brief. 

“Surrender to us, or we’ll destroy you where you’re parked.” 

Batman’s growl startled the aliens, but they recovered. Their shields went up, covering the top of the ship all the way down to the moon’s surface. Smaller fighting ships emerged from the mothership to collect under it, hovering there until they were all assembled. This way the mothership would only have one moment of vulnerability when the shields lifted to let the fighters out. 

“Foolish of you to resist us, Earther! Our shields have held back the might of the Green Lantern Corps and nothing on your planet can compare to that.” 

“You keep believing that, it’ll comfort you in hell.” Batman flicked off the transmission and before speaking to the rest of the JL. “You have a go.” 

An explosion directly under the mothership caused a fireball that was contained within the protective shields. Most of the fighters were destroyed and two of the mothership’s four landing struts were damaged. The aliens had no choice but to drop their shields, letting the lack of atmosphere put out the fires. The fighters that still worked limped out to defend the mothership but Superman, the GLs, and the other members of the JL capable of surviving in space were too small for the fighters to hit. 

When the mothership signaled Batman, he told them the conditions of their surrender. They complied, and a short while later were escorted to prison by the GLs. H’dwigg made sure she had the chance to say a personal goodbye to Batman, while Superman was still cleaning up the debris on the moon. As she flew away, Superman called Batman. 

“Do you really want me to fill in this hole we made in the moon?” 

“What else would you do with it?” 

“I was impressed by your plan and how you saved the world, so I thought we could leave it. Kind of a tribute to your genius, Batman’s own personal glory hole.” 

Super quick reflexes jerked the JL comm. out of his ear before Superman could adjust his ears to the level of noise coming through. Focusing his vision inside the Watchtower, Superman could see the JL members behind Batman in the monitor womb. Several were crying tears of laughter, and the Flash was rolling around on the floor, laughing his butt off. Batman’s face was firmly planted in his gloved hands, trying to ignore the universe around him. Superman looked to J’onn, who was helping him with the debris. J’onn was telepathically listening in on the JL and completely befuddled by what he was learning. 

_“J’onn?”_ Superman reached out telepathically to his trusted friend and slowly got a response. 

_“Yes, Kal?”_

“What is all that about?” 

“I am not sure I understand. The image I am getting seems highly improbable and I do not believe rational adults would engage in such a thing. Nor do I believe Batman would be able to participate in such an activity in the vacuum of space.” 

“So I should ask somebody else?” 

“Yes. But when you find out, I am not sure I want to know.” J’onn kept his confused look as he went back to filling in the hole on the moon. Superman was getting pretty tired of being this confused and out of things. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Brucie wasn’t exactly the most involved owner of a business, even if that business kept him directly in the lap of luxury. He slept through meetings and suggested mergers that never happened, for no reason his board of directors could determine. The strangest purchase he had ever made was a newspaper in another city. Sure, the _Daily Planet_ was a respectable news source but it wasn’t a good investment. 

Even weirder than the purchase, was the care he lavished on the _Planet_. Whenever he was in Metropolis, on business or pleasure, Brucie made a point to visit the offices and talk to the reporters. Some might think he did it to get their support, but the _Planet_ produced the same articles as everybody else about his promiscuous, opulent lifestyle. Brucie had to have a reason for going there, but only ever seemed to chat socially to Lois Lane and Clark Kent. 

Lois had managed several dates with the notorious playboy before he had moved on, but that was years ago. Secretaries and reporters gossiped that he was making another play for Lois, but she wasn’t even there this day. Brucie had slipped into her chair and talked with Kent for a few minutes. A little bit of idle chit-chat, and it almost sounded like Brucie was asking Kent for a date. 

“So, what are you doing tonight?” 

“Teabagging!” Clark’s excited word froze Brucie in place, like his tiny brain had just slipped out of his ear. “A source claimed a bunch of teabaggers were planning on attacking the gay pride parade, so I’m going undercover. They are welcome to form a political group, but violence and harassment are illegal.” 

“Yes, that was always a terrible name for a political group.” Brucie stood up and gave Kent a saucy wink. “Somebody should have told them to look up the word before using it.” 

Most eyes followed the curve of Brucie’s toned ass as he left, so almost nobody saw Kent pull up his favorite computer search engine. Going back to their work, nobody saw Kent’s eyes enlarge at what he found there. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

With his cowl down and gloves off, Batman didn’t look up from the microscope as Kent came out of the elevator. Not wishing to interrupt such concentration, despite Bruce asking him to come by, Kent started reading through papers. Surprise gave him voice even when Clark was consciously trying to be silent. 

“I didn’t know you were into shrimping!” 

“It’s pleasant enough, but I don’t make a fetish of it.” 

“How can trawling for shrimp be a fetish?” 

“What?” Batman looked away from his work, slowly becoming aware of what Kent was referring to. “Oh, the shrimp boats in the Gulf of Mexico. Just providing above market buyouts for people who want to relocate.” 

“So why is that a fetish?” 

“Let it go, we need to plan for Luther’s latest plan to kill you.” “If you say so.” Kent sighed, and made a mental note to research shrimping later. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

“The King of Jordan has been receiving death threats for his modernist beliefs and efforts at peace in the mid-east. I know it’s not normally our thing, but I agreed to help with security at the U.N. party before the conference.” The JL members looked at Superman, knowing there was more to his statement than an invitation to a party. “The security chief asked if we could come out of uniform.” 

That got the JL muttering amongst themselves. Some were highly secretive and outraged by the notion. A couple didn’t care enough about their secrets and weren’t bothered by the idea. Batman wasn’t going, that was obvious by the way he turned his full attention to his computer. His real name and face were too well known for him to sneak onto any guest list. Superman rapped his knuckles on the table to get their attention again. 

“I know your concerns, and I share a lot of them. But if a certain highly paranoid, secretive individual got it into his pointy-eared head, he could fix it. Give everybody an alias for the night and make sure our real names never get entered onto a guest list.” Everybody turned to stare at Batman, who looked up at Superman with only his eyes. 

“Do you know what’s involved in breaking security at the U.N.?” 

“No, but you do, that’s why this task is right up your alley.” Superman smiled at him and Batman stared back for a long minute. The Flash broke the silence, because silence was boring, but Superman kept his eyes on Batman. 

“I’d totally go, I bet the food will be fantastic! But I don’t have a thing to wear, it’s probably going to be all formal and whatnot.” 

“Yeah!” The Green Lantern piped up from where he sat. “Tux’s aren’t in my salary range either.” 

Batman sighed and broke eye contact. “Fine, speak up if you’re volunteering and I’ll get you fixed up.” 

Batman made notes on his computer as the JL members volunteered, and roused Superman’s curiosity. Normally Batman wouldn’t need notes to help him remember who was volunteering for what, so Superman x-rayed the screen. 

“Wow Batman, I’m impressed. You’re a total size queen!” 

Superman wasn’t aware of how his other teammates responded to that, because Batman did the strangest thing. Sliding the computer to his left, Batman slammed his forehead into the table in front of him. It was a solid connecting hit, but it must have made Batman feel better, because he sat back up and went back to his computer. The Flash sped over to read the screen in front of Batman, clearly curious as to what had brought this on. 

“I don’t know where you got that idea Superman, all his computer has is a list of everybody’s sizes and some colors they’d look good in. He’s got me right, but Wonder Woman are your boobs really a double d?” 

“Batman! I have a dress and am going to this event as the Ambassador.” Diana was trying for reasonable, but the JL could clearly hear her annoyance. “I do not need you to buy me a dress or make comments about my breast size.” 

Batman snapped the laptop closed and stood. “I will buy clothes and contact you individually for fittings and alterations. I will cover your identities and review the security measures taken. That will be the limit of my involvement with this situation.” 

Batman moved, clearly fleeing the room but Green Lantern’s voice stopped him. “Wait! I find it hard to believe that you are going to alter clothes to fit us.” 

“I will not. I will bring a trustworthy individual up to the Watchtower to do the alterations. I can guarantee his discretion, fashion sense, and skill with a needle. As you are not going to tell him your names, I don’t see why you should get his.” 

“I hope it’s not your tailor…” GL had more to say but he was surprise as Batman moved toward him with malice on his mind. Superman interceded, placing his body between them. He let the surprise show on his face as he calmed them down. 

“Relax Batman. He didn’t mean anything against Al, he was insulting you. That’s all, really!” That reasoning would have made the situation worse for most people, but for Batman it was calming. Bruce could take words and physical pain meant to hurt him, but Alfred was off limits. Superman saw the tiny signs that Batman was standing down, so he turned to GL. “It’s ok. I know who he’s talking about, and I can vouch for him too. Is that acceptable to you?” 

GL frowned, but nodded. Superman turned back to Batman, only to find he had left the room at some point. There was no reason Batman had gone from a reasonable man able to determine everybody’s size to defensive predator in seconds. Superman sighed, knowing he’d have to search out Batman and make him explain his overreaction. Why was Batman so emotional lately? And why did it always fall to Superman to remind him he was human? 

sB _Sb_ Bs

From where he sat, Clark Kent shouldn’t have been able to see the bar. He sipped his drink and looked drunk and very interested in the wall beside him. Clark showed no signs of surprise when the man at the bar stood and kissed his very male companion goodbye. No reason he should, since he couldn’t actually see it, but Kent did get a goofy grin as the first man turned and walked toward him. 

The man went by without seeing Kent in the dark corner and into the bathroom. That man couldn’t see through walls, but he emerged from the bathroom exactly thirty seconds after his earlier companion walked out the front door of the dingy pub. He was chewing on a wooden match when he settled into the booth next to Kent, a frown of concentration almost stopping his chewing. The goofy smile was gone, as if Kent was picking up on the other man’s mood. 

“You know, Br, uh, Matches.” Kent offered a slight smile of apology for almost calling his contact the wrong name. “You’re a bit of a gay spy.” 

“Almost. Just now figuring that out, Kent?” Matches pulled Kent’s drink to him, only to find it was a Shirley Temple. He could have used something with alcohol after learning what he had a minute ago. 

“Well, I always knew you pretended to be a happier person when you went undercover. Listening to you as you talked with him made me realize you really are happier when you’re somebody else.” Matches took these words as a sign to drain the Shirley Temple, even as he decided he had the wherewithal to wait until he got home to get drunk. “That’s kind of a depressing way to live, only being happy when you’re pretending.” 

“Kent.” Matches seemed to have more to say, but after a moment he stood and glared downward. “Thanks for the backup, now go home.” 

Kent couldn’t explain the irritation and rage that rose up in him at Matches retreating back. He didn’t remember picking up the glass, but even as he brushed the glass off of his mercifully uncut hand, a possible reason occurred to him. Maybe, it was because of all the people in the universe, he was the one who could understand why Matches was happier than the man under the disguise. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

The picture of Brucie Wayne puking his guts all over Lex Luther’s pants and shoes was far too graphic to be put in the paper. Perry made the editorial decision, but quietly gave Jimmy permission to do whatever he wanted with that picture. Kent was the only one to buy a full color 8x10, instead of the digital copy everybody else at the Planet wanted. Jimmy presented it to Clark with a flourish, which brought several people over to see it. 

“Here you go Clark, suitable for framing.” 

“That is so nasty, Kent!” Kitty, the gossip columnist, had never been shy about voicing her opinions. “What in the world are you going to do with that?” 

“I wanted to see his eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear Brucie was aiming for Lex.” 

Clark could see it, even if nobody else could. The narrowed eyes that most often looked out of Batman’s cowl were evident in this picture. Clark couldn’t tell them, that afterwards, Bruce had avoided the question when Clark had asked him if he had aimed. Nor could he mention that Bruce had to spend two days recovering from some space virus after the incident, and the Jl had to purged his system four times. 

Batman had checked out clean before leaving the Watchtower and pushed through his increasing nausea to attend the event. The heavy vomiting had been the first symptom Bruce couldn’t ignore. In Jimmy’s picture, Clark could see it, the focus and determination in Bruce’s eyes. If he was going to give in to a human weakness, Bruce was going to make his enemies regret it. 

“Brucie can’t be bright enough to aim vomit and stupid enough to aim for Lex. If Lex figured it out, he’d squash Brucie like bug.” Kitty shook her head even as she leaned in to look at the picture better. A long hand with obviously fake nails covered the remains of Brucie’s meal. “Nobody looks good while spewing, but this really highlights Brucie’s DSL.” 

“You think so?” Lois chimed in, tilting her head to match Kitty’s angel. “I’m sure Brucie bats for both teams, but I never thought he was plump enough for DSL.” 

“Gossiping on the clock?” Everyone turned to face the voice that said this, but Clark paused to hide the picture under his desk before turning. Brucie had a charming smile in place as he continued. “Somebody might report you to the boss, unless you come clean about what’s going on here.” 

Jimmy was red enough to use as a carpet and Kitty and Lois were stumbling over words. It would have been obvious to anyone with half a brain that he was the subject of the conversation he had just walked into. Kitty and Lois would have recovered and tried to get out of it, since they didn’t think Brucie had the prerequisite half of a brain. Clark was afraid of getting cornered by the hidden brain and having to take the punishment all on his own. Then he’d have to admit to the picture and the projectile vomit question again. Shrugging, Clark went with the truth that would get him the least amount of interrogation. 

“Hey Bruce! Lois thinks you belong to two different baseball teams, and Kitty thinks you have DSL at your place. I don’t understand how we went from your sport activities to internet connection, but there you go.” 

Bruce blinked at Clark, making a connection that Clark had missed. Closing his eyes and shaking his head didn’t do much to get rid of that connection, because there was a good start on a blush when he looked to Lois. 

“Out of the mouth of babes, something something. I never was very good at quotes, but if either one of those rumors show up in your articles you should have proof. Which reminds me, Clark. Nobody needs 8x10 proof of me losing my lunch.” 

A shrug, and Brucie turned away. As the elevator doors closed behind Bruce, Clark had already considered the pros and cons and decided to hide the picture in the Fortress. If Bruce hadn’t been aiming for Lex, he wouldn’t have been so concerned with people seeing that picture, and Clark didn’t want Bruce to know he was keeping it. Bruce’s eyes were beautiful when he let his intelligence show through. The crowd around his desk gave a collective sigh of relief before moving back to their desks and pulling Clark out of his thoughts. Lois sat at her desk across from Clark and gave him a withering stare. 

“Clark, if you’re going to survive in this world, you need to learn to lie better. You recovered quickly, I grant you that, but your explanation was so transparent even Brucie saw through it.” 

“Well, I was confused as to why we were talking about sports and TV, so I didn’t think Bruce would understand it either.” 

“Wait. You really thought that was what we were talking about?” 

“Yes. What were you talking about then?” 

Lois copied Bruce’s close eyes, shake head maneuver before letting herself speak. “Poor, innocent Clark, I regret doing this to you. Before your innocence gets you fired, I feel it is my duty to educate you on some things. I think Brucie is bisexual, sleeping with men and women, or batting for both teams.” 

“What? Bruce? With a guy?” 

“Yes, Clark, that’s why he’s never even been seriously engaged, let alone married. Even modern women don’t want their hubbies stepping out to have sex with a man. It’s an old argument between us, but Kitty thinks Bruce is totally gay. He only goes out with women to hide the fact that he’s had so much practice with men that his mouth is trained for it. Brucie’s direct satellite link is nothing compared to his dick sucking lips.” 

Clark responded to Lois’s words by blushing over his entire body. His mind showed him Bruce on his knees sucking. That would have only reddened his face, but his mind was also using his dick as the one Bruce was sucking on. Clark didn’t know how he should have felt at that image, but the rightness of it surprised him and intensified the blush. 

“Geez Clark, calm down! You look like you’re about to catch fire.” Lois picked up a stack of papers to fan in his direction. “It happens, farm-boy. Some people are just a little looser about who they shack up with than you.” 

“You seriously think Bruce Wayne could, I mean, with a guy?” 

“Did he deny it a minute ago? No, just said to make sure we had proof!” Lois turned the papers on herself and shot Clark a confused look. “Do you need a minute to recover, because I think I can feel embarrassment coming off of you like heat?” 

“Yeah, I should go and wash my face or something.” Clark stumbled to his feet but missed the bathroom entirely. 

Instead he started walking up the stairs and Lois rolled her eyes in exasperation before going back to her work. She’d just shattered Clark’s safe little Mayberry world, so she’d give him twenty minutes to recover before she sent him out for cappuccinos. And donuts. Ten minutes to recover, because she could really go for some sprinkles right now. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

The Warrior race of the planet Allos promised talks of peace and Superman was so happy he couldn’t wait to go. Muttering under his breath, Batman had volunteered to go with him. Batman didn’t say he was volunteering, just mentioned that Earth need a representative who would be harder to convince than the over-eager super-puppy who needed everyone to love him. But Clark got even happier as they took off in the Javelin together. Bruce had been extra tense lately and Clark wanted to get him to relax, or at least listen to Clark talk about some things that had been on his mind. 

When the Allos peace talks had turned out to be a trap, Superman was glad Batman saw it coming from a couple of planets away. The Allos’s technicians had only started disassembling the Javelin when Superman and Batman had escaped. Missing sections of the hull meant life support was unreliable, so they had commandeered one of the Allos’s craft. Batman had figured out how to use the tractor beam so they could drag the Javelin behind them, and Superman had worked the guns to discourage pursuit. 

Now, by the light reflecting off Jupiter, something had gone wrong with the Allos’s craft. Bruce had removed the cape and cowl for a better range of neck motion and crawled under the console. Clark was trying to convince the onboard computer systems to tell them what was wrong. It should have been a companionable work environment, except Clark could almost feel Bruce’s tension. They had been in worse situations and had plenty of air to wait for the JL to come get them, but Bruce had been closed off this whole trip. Bruce worked in silence, while Clark hummed and sang snippets of songs. 

_“With new pistons, plugs and shocks I can get off my rocks!”_ Clark’s soft words stopped at the loud thump from under the console. “You ok?” 

The long moment of silence had Clark switching to x-ray, and watching as Bruce rubbed at the back of his head. Something must have made him move and slam into the equipment above him. “Are you singing about having sex with a car?” 

“Nasty mind you’ve got there! It’s from the musical, _Grease_.” 

“Never seen it.” 

“Brucie goes to the theater all the time.” 

“The theater is a bit different than musicals.” 

“Poor little rich boy. _Grease_ is a classic coming of age story, set to the dramatic background of a high school in the sixties.” 

“Whatever. It’s still a dirty song.” 

“ _Greased Lightning_ is classic rock and roll! The guys think if they get the car supped up, they’ll get all the girls.” 

“Hence the ‘getting off my rocks’ line.” 

“Ok, maybe one line in a whole musical. But other than that, it’s good for the whole family.” 

“Sing some more.” 

“ _You know that I ain’t bragging, she’s a real…_ ” Clark closed his mouth and thought about something. “I’ve never realized it before, but you’re right. That song is not family friendly.” 

“How does the line end?” 

Clark muttered two words, knowing full well they were outside normal human hearing range. 

“I didn’t catch that, Clark. I would also like to point out, that if you don’t say it loud, you’ll have to say it over and over again until I do hear you.” 

“Pussy wagon! Alright?” 

“I’m satisfied. Why don’t you find another musical to ruin for yourself?” 

“Good idea.” Clark watched Bruce shift over so he was lying on his back, chest and above hidden in alien equipment. Finally Clark started singing again. 

_Don’t get strung out by the way that I look,_  
 _Don’t judge a book by its cover_  
 _I’m not much of a man by the light of day,_  
 _But by night I’m one hell of a lover_

Clark stopped at the sound of an alien tool bouncing off a human forehead and muttered curses in High Mongolian. 

“Not that one, Clark!” 

Clark x-rayed Bruce’s skull, again, to make sure he was still uninjured. But once that was done, he didn’t look away as he sang in Bruce’s direction. Interesting that Bruce should recognize that musical but not Grease. 

_Yesterday I was one of a lonely people_  
 _Now you’re lying close to me giving it to me_  
 _I believe in miracles_  
 _Where are you from, you sexy thing?_

“You know what, Clark? IF you can’t sing outside to the range of human hearing, don’t sing.” 

“Musical snob.” Clark replied quickly, but as if his thoughts were elsewhere. He returned to the computer system and stayed silent. Less than an hour later, and Earth was filling the view screens of both ships. Bruce didn’t even look at Clark as he worked, but Clark had a long look at Bruce. 

_Sweet Transvestite_ : the Rocky Horror Picture Show  
 _You Sexy Thing_ : Berry White, Hot Chocolate  
 _Greased Lightning_ : Grease  


sB _Sb_ Bs

Brucie seemed off tonight, as if something was on his mind. Everyone at the W.E. party knew that wasn’t possible, because Brucie didn’t have a mind to be on, but something was up. Brucie disappeared early in the festivities, and nobody noticed him taking a woman with him for a bit of fun. Well, except the nobody that was Kent, of the press corps. 

Shortly after Brucie disappeared, Kent did too, but absolutely nobody noticed that. Almost as if he could see through walls, Kent found Brucie hiding behind a large tree, potted and placed on the balcony. Brucie was staring at Gotham, expression showing nobody was home even as he twirled the champagne flute in his right hand. 

“Hey Bruce. Want to go deep throat on me?” The glass shattered as Bruce came back to reality with a scary intensity. 

“Explain, Kent.” His words were sharp but his attention seemed to be on brushing the glass fragments out of his hand. 

“I don’t want to sit through the press conference in the morning. So if you tell me all about it tonight, I won’t have to.” 

“And, dare I ask, why did you call that deepthroating?” 

“Deep Throat? It was the code name of the insider who broke the Watergate scandal to the press. You’re the boss of W.E., so you would be perfect for a deep throat.” 

“Clark.” Bruce started like he had something serious to say, but seemed to change his mind. “Get stuffed.” 

Bruce’s attempt to walk back into the party was paused by a hand on his arm. Bruce closed his eyes, as if he found that touch stimulating. 

“Be careful what you say, in Britain stuffing is a euphemism for gay sex.” Clark said. 

“I’ll try and remember that.” His tone was somewhere between exasperated and sarcastic, as Brucie pulled away and stomped back into the party. 

After watching the party from the balcony for a little while longer, Clark stepped behind the large tree. Sure no one was looking, Clark took to the air, like he thought he was Superman or something. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Usually, if Bruce left Gotham the world was in trouble. Maybe from an outside threat, maybe from bad guys doing bad things, but also from Bruce’s attitude. So when Superman checked for Bruce’s heartbeat from orbit, he was concerned when it was not in Gotham. With nothing else demanding his attention, Superman went to take a look. In Western Kentucky, at a place called Land Between the Lakes, Bruce Wayne was hiking through the woods. Positive the man was alone, Superman landed beside him. 

“Nice day for a hike.” 

“Funny.” 

“No, an observation, and maybe a chance for you to tell me what you’re doing so far from Gotham.” 

“Not that it concerns you, but several Gothamites have turned up around here. Tortured, sexually assaulted, and disemboweled, before they are killed and the mutilation begins.” 

“So you came looking for the man responsible, in civilian clothes and alone?” 

“I only look like a civilian, and Alfred knew where I was going.” 

“Have it your way.” Superman offered with a shrug and noncommittal voice before flying off. 

Bruce wasn’t fooled, nor was he surprised when Clark Kent landed beside him in hiking gear a few minutes later. They talked of random things as they hiked, but didn’t use names in the conversation. A passerby might have thought they were so familiar with each other that names had lost usefulness. A more suspicious passerby might have thought they didn’t want to give anything away, in case they were overheard. 

After an hour’s walk down the trail, Bruce led Clark off the established path. Another hour found them at a small cabin in the woods, with all of the windows boarded up. Bruce worked with the door, which at first seemed locked. Soon it gave way under his skilled touch and they entered together. Bruce pointed to his eyes and then the floor, even as he talked. 

“Since we’re lost, this cabin might be a good place to wait for the rangers to find us.” Bruce’s accent and intonations made it clear this was his first time out of Gotham. Clark made an agreeing noise, even though he was staring intently at the floor under Bruce. 

“Say, that is some well hung meat!” Bruce fell heavily to his knees and a startled Clark ran to his side. “You ok?” 

“Yeah, just tripped over my new hiking boots. What made you talk about meat?” Bruce looked to where Clark pointed, seeing several wild animal carcasses hanging from the rafters. Clark was confused that Bruce didn’t understand his coded message that they were in the right place. 

“Did some hunting with my Dad, even slaughtered a few animals on the farm. The person who skinned those animals knew what they were doing.” Clark walked away from Bruce and over to the hidden catch as he talked. “They’ve probably been treated and seasoned, and then hung there to cure.” 

The door in the floor opened silently, and two innocent hikers stumbled into a serial killer’s lair. The serial killer had a half dead hostage, several guns and a large knife. He didn’t stand a chance. The hostage was taken to a hospital by Superman, too happy to be alive to do more than sob into her rescuer’s shoulder. Superman got the credit but didn’t stay around to collect it. The item made national news, especially after the police found evidence of twenty-two other victims. 

With the serial killer caught and confessing eagerly, it should have been old news a week later. Then the hostage made a statement, with a Bishop standing beside her. She thanked Superman for finding her, and then her Bishop declared that he’d requested permission to have Superman made a saint. Shooting soda out his nose at that, Clark Kent needed a moment to recover. He put his supper in the fridge of his apartment and changed clothes before flying to Gotham. 

Batman was gearing up for the night and cringed when he saw Superman enter the Batcave. Superman saw the wince and came to the wrong conclusion. 

“I’m sorry! I know you don’t do this for the glory, but an emergency called me away before I could tell them that you did the detective work. And the sainthood thing? Totally not my idea, and I really hope they have a law against aliens being saints!” 

Batman stopped Superman’s words with an ungloved hand. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I don’t care if you get all the credit. What could you do about it anyway?” 

“I don’t know, telling the truth probably wouldn’t work at this point.” Superman was frustrated, and ran his hands over his thighs a couple of times. “I could bash the bishop!” 

Bruce stared at Superman’s thighs before dazedly reaching up to wipe sweat off of his upper lip. “What about a bishop?” 

“The bishop who wants to canonize me. If I attack him, the church can’t make me a saint, and I’ll make sure you get credit from here on in.” 

Bruce seemed to shiver, before he pulled himself together by putting the cowl into place. “Everybody already thinks you’re an angel, so you might as well be a saint, too.” 

“But people should know you’re an angel too.” Clark couldn’t be sure without looking through Bruce’s back, but he seemed to have put the right glove on the left hand. Why would he do that if he wasn’t upset about not getting credit for what he did? 

“Urban legends don’t need credit, it proves their existence.” 

“Are you sure?” Clark wasn’t reassured, as Bruce now seemed to be having difficulty getting the right glove on the right hand. 

“Just go tell the bishop you don’t want to be a saint until after you’re dead. Don’t worry about what I want.” With his gloves on the proper fingers, Batman headed for the car. He got in and closed the canopy, but Superman waited until he left to speak again. 

“Do you even know what you want, Bruce?” 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Bruce made his way into the cave, forgetting the world of Brucie. Pushing the failed takeover bid, his failure, out of his mind. He had bungled a planned attack on a crooked business because his mind kept asking what Clark would look like with his head thrown back in pleasure. Batman planned to check the computer, news, and police transmissions before suiting up for the night ahead. Rumors claimed Joker and Scarface were working together, and Batman always made an effort to break up such partnerships. Bruce was sitting at the computer, still in his business suit, when Clark landed beside him. 

A glance showed it was Clark, not the bumbling reporter or Superman. In jeans and flannel, no glasses and spit curl allowed freedom, Clark was beautiful beyond the god-like image of Superman. An unusual choice of attire for the man, but Bruce could appreciate it even if no one else could. Especially later, when he could review the video feed of the cave and see how those jeans cupped perfectly formed ass cheeks. 

Bruce forced himself to look at the information on the screen instead of Clark’s reflection. His valiant effort to work was defeated when Clark changed positions. Perching his butt on the right arm of Bruce’s chair was unnecessary, as the man could hover. Unnecessary and distracting. Clark’s right nipple was just visible in the way the shirt opened, and now even with Bruce’s mouth. Nipplage that was making Bruce’s mouth water, so he took a deep breath through his nose. 

This informal Clark wasn’t wearing cologne so he smelled like himself. It was stupid, impossible, and mushy, but Bruce thought Clark smelled of sunshine. Clark scratched at his left thigh before letting his hand drop to the top of Bruce’s right leg. Bruce managed to only jump and stiffen a little bit. Clark didn’t seem to notice as he asked. 

“Anything happening tonight?” 

“Just a couple of ships coming in that I have to watch. They meet out in international waters to make guns-for-drugs deals, then come in and unload.” 

“Why meet out there? Don’t they know they can get arrested for bringing the cargo in as well as for the dealing?” 

“The supplier is the nervous type. Wants his money but doesn’t want to be on my radar again.” 

“He doesn’t know you don’t have jurisdictional restrictions?” Clark shook his head in annoyance. “Idiot should try docking, he might like it.” 

Docking. The one word had shoved Batman out of the way so Bruce could use the brain. He was thinking about how he’d never actually tried that maneuver, all the guys he’d slept with had been circumcised. But nothing could cut Clark like that, and Bruce doubted it was standard practice on another planet. 

How would that feel, to have another man’s skin encasing his cock? And for it to be Clark, the big goof, the Boy Scout, the damnably infuriating nice guy who exuded a cloud of intelligent innocence? Bruce didn’t want him to ever lose that innocence, but he still wanted to educate Clark in a few things. Clark was brilliant but focused on more important matters than slang, or how much Bruce wanted him. 

Pointless thing to want, a desire Batman had often criticized Bruce for. Everybody in the world, and possibly the universe wanted Superman, including his enemies. What would Luther do or pay for a chance to have Superman in his bed? Maybe everybody wanted Superman, but Bruce wanted Clark Kent. The problem was, Clark was the one thing in this universe that could make Bruce forget his mission and spend the rest of his life in bed, Clark’s bed. That warm, perfect body next to his, fingers that could crush mountains gently trailing down his chest…

“Bruce, why do you have an erection?” Clark’s confused voice was enough to snap Bruce out of his delicious dirty thoughts, and the return to reality was unwelcome. Bruce spoke without weighing his words, letting his emotions get the better of him. 

“Why? Are you serious? Every time I’ve seen you for the last six months you’ve talked about sex. Now every time I see you, or talk to you or even bleeding think about you, I get like this!” 

Clark blinked at him before asking. “So you want to have sex with me?” 

“The whole damn world wants to have sex with you.” 

“So the whole world wants to be my, what’s the phrase? My friend with benefits? Do you want to be my friend with benefits, Bruce?” Bruce didn’t answer, flushing as he turned to look at the screen again. “Come on, tell me.” 

“Do you even know what friend with benefits really means?” 

“Friends who have sex together occasionally.” 

“People who agree to use each other physically without emotional complications.” “Oh, ok. So do you want to use me, physically?” Bruce bit his lip and started randomly moving through windows on his computer. Clark sighed, and let his left hand slide over to cup Bruce’s erection. It grew in response and Bruce clamped his eyes shut. “It feels like you do want to use me. Maybe we should try it.” 

That got Bruce to his feet, hobbling awkwardly away. Clark sped over to stand in front of him, arms crossed and a frown on his face. “Bruce, if you don’t talk to me, I’ll bring J’onn down here to read your mind. Do you want me or not?” 

“Look at me. Isn’t it obvious how much I want you? But I can’t use you because I’ve already got the emotional complications. I don’t play well with others and I sure as hell don’t share! Friends with benefits is a no; I have lovers, Clark. I did anyway, before I met you. I love you, so sex is out of the question.” 

“Once again, Clark the clueless is left in the dark.” Clark sighed and moved in front of the moving Bruce. “If you love me, why can’t we have sex? Why can’t we be lovers, if I love you?” 

If Bruce hadn’t stopped because Clark was in front of him, he would have stumbled at those words. His agile mind, well trained in the art of quick, creative and logical thinking formulated an appropriate response. “What?” 

“I love you. I want to be your lover for all time. I’ve just been waiting for you to admit you wanted me too.” Moving closer, Clark started removing Bruce’s clothes as he spoke. “I want to try rimming you, docking with you, I’ll even let you fist me if you want. I want you to promise you’ll never need another screwvenir, because you’ll only sleep with me. I want you to take my black cherry, Bruce.” 

“Don’t screw with me like this.” Bruce caught Clark’s hands in his own to stop the motion, but his voice sounded more scared than commanding. 

“Screw with you? You’re the one that had me looking up sex terms online.” 

“Me? You’re the one shoving sex into every conversation we’ve had. If you thought you wanted me, why didn’t you say something?” 

“Why didn’t you? If you’re getting erections from talking to me, why didn’t you tell me? How long have you felt this way?” 

“Live it alone, Superman!” Batman’s statement was an effort to get back to a professional working environment, and Clark saw right through it. 

“Oh no, this is between Clark and Bruce. If you didn’t want me, you’d have laughed when I made a fool of myself. Instead you tried to get me to stop saying things that distracted you from your mission. You’re always in control except when it comes to me, which was unbelievably arousing, once I figured it out.” Clark’s hands were roaming across Bruce’s now naked body, finding firm muscles to stroke and scars to softly trace. 

Bruce shivered and pulled them together. “What was I supposed to say? Clark, now that you and Lois are through, would you consider making the beast with two backs with me?” 

“Why not? The Shakespearian reference I would have understood.” 

“Naturally, you know all about something that was written 500 years ago.” Shaking his head, Bruce moved backward. A quick pull and the flannel shirt’s buttons were bouncing around the cave as Bruce moved in on Clark’s nipple. 

Clark hovered so he could remove his jeans without moving away from Bruce’s mouth. With both of them naked, Clark wrapped a hand around Bruce’s erection. One of Bruce’s hands found Clark’s hard length and they found a rhythm together. When warm liquid spread over Clark’s hand, he let his own orgasm wash over him. When he felt he could hide the triumph on his face, Clark pulled away to grin at Bruce. 

“I’ve only googled these things, usually after I say them inappropriately, so you’ll have to show me how they actually work. That ok with you?” 

“Ok? Clark, if you don’t get to my bedroom in the next five minutes, I’m getting out the kryptonite bolo.” Shamelessly naked, Bruce headed for the stairs and muttered to the air in front of him. “Later, we will use the bolo, after I adjust the amount of kryptonite in it.” 

“Wait, Bruce, we forgot something!” Clark called to Bruce’s back, even as he moved to close the distance between them. Bruce stopped and turned around to frown at him. 

“What? Between your hearing and my monitor software, we’ll be alerted if anything needs our attention.” 

“Well, call me an old fashioned romantic, but I think we need a memorable first kiss.” 

“Your cum is drying on my stomach and you want to kiss?” 

Clark nodded, his face declaring a kiss was the most obvious thing in the world. Bruce rolled his eyes, but stepped to Clark and positioned his head. Clark looked a little disappointed that it was so clinical, until Bruce wrapped his arms around Clark’s head and shoulders. Bruce licked Clark’s lips and sucked on the top lip for a few moments, before letting their lips fully meet. Clark opened his mouth a little and Bruce’s tongue darted inside. When Bruce finally started to pull away, his teeth only let Clark’s lower lip go when it wouldn’t stretch any further. 

Clark took a moment to recover before he spoke. “I think that should be sufficiently memorable, but I will expect you to remind me of it nightly.” 

“There’s never been anyone quite like you.” Bruce shook his head, but there was an appreciative look on his face. 

Clark pulled Bruce to him and lifted off the floor. Bruce responded by wrapping his legs around Clark’s waist and leaning in to nibble on his neck. The world blurred around them as Clark moved them up to Bruce’s bedroom. Even as Bruce started Clark’s education in the world of homosexual activities, he knew he had been right. Clark was the one thing that would distract Bruce from the mission, but Clark would never ask it. That’s why Bruce loved him. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Slash  
Sprung  
Screwvenir  
Rule 34  
Rimming  
Black Cherry  
DP double penetration  
Golden shower / bath  
Angry spider  
Teabaggers  
cock mobster  
gay spy - secretly gay or gay on the down low  
get brains, blow job  
glory hole  
quid pro quo-job – blow jobs for favors  
dressed for the trade – dressed like a prostitute  
Dress rehearsal – dry hump  
Backdoor  
size queen - appreciation for large cocks  
Bump uglies  
shrimping - toe sucking  
ride, riding  
Bash the bishop - masturbation  
DSL  
well-hung meat  
knocking boots  
Docking


End file.
